windfall | light a cigarette, i'll watch as it burns

light a cigarette, i'll watch as it burns

[ Knocking. The roar of ammunition fire in his ears. Blasts of heat and debris sticking to his face, dust crusting in his eyes. A delirious and delicious taste, sweet red like pomegranate, like Aki's skin scraping open in his mouth.

Denji doesn't talk much about what happened that day.

Not unusual, since he doesn't really talk much about any of what transpired prior to meeting Nayuta, either. Or about how sometimes he can still sense, not even hear, but sense a phone ringing in the distance, its pull like a spiral cord that's gone taut, that's trying to make its way back home and if he follows its trail, he might just find someone familiar on the other end of the receiver.

No, he doesn't tell anyone all that, because, see, the last time he did, Kishibe had just hummed and looked at him, the kind of look Denji would get from adults whenever they caught him picking through the dumpster for his next meal: pitying. Then, he'd shook out a flask from the inside of his coat and said, "Sometimes it's better for the line to go dead, kid."

Weird response, right? It'd made Denji go silent, think a bit. And after a while, he hadn't liked that so much, so he'd changed the subject to something inoffensive, like complaining about how much Nayuta's so much better at arcade games than he is, but Kishibe had cut him short at that point to go take a call.

Naturally, Denji had followed.

It's a little sad that a man in his silver years is the only person he can confide in, but Kishibe's not a bad guy — and that's coming from someone who generally hates men. Then again, the guy doesn't show his gaunt face around these parts unless he absolutely has to, which is probably by his own design, so it helps that he's never around long enough for Denji to get sick of seeing him. Up until that conversation, his absence wouldn't have been something Denji paid notice to. It'd usually take weeks and months and Nayuta asking where the funny, drunk geezer who always sneaks her hard candy is for him to see past the everyday chaos of being Tokyo's friendly neighborhood Chainsaw Man.

But as Denji creeped closer, overhearing some words but not registering most of them, a dangerous curiosity brought him to the edge of his hiding spot. What the hell has this dude been up to?

And then he'd froze.

"So the Gun Devil's position has been compromised. Initiate a tactical retreat."

Afterward, he hadn't done anything for a solid week besides go to school, kick some devil ass and stare vacantly at a pair of eggs frying in the pan for dinner each evening. Predictably, Nayuta had rapidly gotten sick of the menu. So before he could make his eighth pair of fried eggs, she'd scaled up his back and twisted his earlobes until he begged for forgiveness.

"Stuuupid! Dummy! Get a hold of yourself!" Nayuta raged on. "No more acting weird, or else I'm putting doggy kibble in your cereal again!"

She was right. He needed to get a hold of himself. Yeah, he was dumb, but that didn't mean he had eggshells for brains. He could still do stuff in his own way.

In the following weeks, Denji spent his time hounding members of the Devil Hunter Club for all and any relevant knowledge pertaining to devils. From rumors about recent devil sightings, to insights into things like the theoretical mechanics behind how long it took for certain types of devils to die in Hell and be reborn, to mathematical equations projecting the survivability rate of fiends based on the velocity and quantity of violence…

Of course, he only understood about three-percent of anything at any given time, but one detail of interest shared by some gloomy, pig-tailed girl stood out to him. According to her, a mysterious amount of devils had been slain in the Kabukicho district, none of which had been reported by either civilian hunters or Public Safety ones.

Anyone with half their wits would be able to easily determine that this wasn't a reasonable lead, but for Denji? He could feel something trilling out to him. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Does he think that has anything to do with it...? He saw Aki's dick, he knows there isn't any sort of significant size difference between them. Aki shakes his head, reaching his opposite hand up to push at him when he starts to chew on his shoulder. He's starting to remind him of how Angel would gnaw on things when he was annoyed. Devils.]

It has nothing to do with that.

[He doesn't know how to explain it to someone like Denji. How it's different when you're the one on top. How the mood shifts, the power changes. How he likes things as they are, where he can move Denji around as he pleases and Denji will go limp like a puppy and allow it to happen. He's obedient, in some ways. But when he's not obedient - it's that much harder to predict him. Aki doesn't know how he would react in that situation.]

...I'll think about it, alright? But not tonight. [He runs the hand he pushed him back with through his hair and smooths it back from his face.] You shouldn't push yourself on a school night.

[ Aki offers no explanation. And that's fine. He doesn't need to. ]

Yeah, okay.

[ Without demur, Denji sways slightly backward with the push, light as it was, and ceases his nibbling. He may be rhymeless in what he decides is worth doubling down for, being obstinate about, but who bottoms or whatever isn't one of those things. He reveres the idea of intimacy too much to be all that choosy about how he gets his fill. It's not even that he really cares about putting his dick inside Aki, it's more that… for as long as he's nearby, Denji wants to be close to him in any way he's permitted. ]

But do I really gotta go to class? [ Carefully, he ducks his head under his arm, scooting in until his legs are flopped over Aki's and he's comfortably seated sideways in his lap. Well, comfortably for Denji. ] Can't I just call in sick…? We could watch movies! Or check out discounted coffee makers, or —

[ A meaningful pause. ]

Do other stuff.

[Aki shifts about as Denji crawls all over him and takes a spot in his lap. Really...? Is he trying to get him turned on again? He doesn't know what's up with him. Was he always this touchy? He sets his arm around him, telling himself it's so he doesn't slide off his legs.]

You can't play hooky to go shopping and have sex.

[Really, asking Aki is akin to asking a cop. Of course he's going to say no.]

Besides, you're supposed to find that guy who bought you a cake. And make friends. [He sets his arm a little tighter around him as he lays down flat on the futon. He yawns as his fingers play at the skin on Denji's thigh.] Now that you know what it's like, it doesn't have to be something that holds you back anymore.

I didn't say sex.

[ The response rolls off somewhat sullenly, though he clearly implied it. Meant to imply it. But also he would have been happy going to the aquarium or something, too. With him. If he wanted. Aki telling him no in so many words, returning to topic of all that stuff about school and their deal has Denji's mouth thinning into a set line, expression morphing into one of complication. Even as Aki's touch massages blissfully into his skin. Even as Denji adjusts to slide their hips closer, letting his cock rest side-by-side next to Aki's, almost in a size comparison — they really aren't that different in length or girth — the intrusive thoughts won't dessert him.

Why does Aki always have to bring up that crap…? They just fucked, how is he supposed to go back to normal?

— and then he realizes, with sudden pinpoint accuracy, that's probably part of the point, if not the whole point. What Aki's been trying to tell him all this time. That after having sex, you're supposed to go back to normal. He stills. ]

…Are we friends?

[Aki stares up at the ceiling like Denji just gave him one of those gag candies that taste like piss.]

[Why is he so impossible? Why does he need everything spelled out for him in such exacting words? Why can't he just accept the undefined nature of their relationship?]

[Blurting out that he was Denji's brother to a student was probably because of what he told him about Makima, he realizes belatedly. He still hasn't talked to him much about all of that. Doesn't really know what to say. But in some ways, maybe he did see Denji as his brother. Not as Taiyou - just as a kid brother, annoying and irresponsible and always getting him in trouble, but also funny, goofy, observant. Aki isn't the most personable person and yet Denji still wanted him to stay here. Missed him. And Aki did as well. Does that mean they're friends? Aki doesn't care about those kinds of words. But he's trying to make Denji care about them. That's why the question is so annoying.]

I guess.

[He doesn't sound thrilled about that. Not because it's Denji - more like because it feels like he found a loophole. That now that Aki is defined as his friend he's going to cling to him more. Ignore the outside world more. Go to class for the sake of making money for a devil and not for the sake of bettering his own life.]

[He's so stupid. Aki reaches up and grabs onto his arm, aiming to tug him down over him, near his chest.]

That doesn't mean you're off the hook. [If Denji is going to demand specifics, then Aki will, as well.] Cake guy.

[ Aki guesses they're friends. His stare strains around the edges of his eyes but Denji tries terribly hard to appear unmoved, like the answer simply glances off him. The lack of commitment feels almost disrespectful to him, knowing what they've been through together — in fact, the more he sits there and stews, the more deeply rankled he is by it. He doesn't know why, considering that it sounds like something he himself would say to avoid getting pressured into tripping a mousetrap.

…Well, it's not like he was expecting some grand expression of what they mean to one another from Aki. Just hearing him say family would have been enough for him, maybe. Why couldn't he have just said that?

But Aki doesn't seem to care to give him the time to thoroughly meditate on this, because out of nowhere he's yanking him down to his level. Yelping, he collides chest to chest with him, his cable tail digging into Aki's sternum. As a complaint boils in his throat, he hears Aki retaliate with a question he doesn't expect, and instantly Denji flinches, taken aback. ]

What? [ In an attempt to smooth over his initial discomposure, Denji hastily locks his jaw to affect a sense of aloofness. But he’s not as good at that sort of thing as Aki is. There's a noticeable wrinkle tightening his forehead. His hand lands on the place he's being gripped by him, trying to loosen the hold. ] I told you. The guy wasn't at school today. You want me to track down where he lives like some damn stalker?

[He knows Denji wasn't satisfied with his response, but Aki pushes straight past it, releasing the grip on his arm to instead go back to his head, smoothing his hair about as Denji assures him he isn't a stalker. Well, that's good. He hopes he wouldn't befriend one, either.]

So look again tomorrow. I didn't expect you to make a friend in one day.

[That would be an impressive feat. He's not sure anyone in their right mind would come to like Denji enough for that to happen within the span of a day. Maybe a devil.]

Your only friends can't be a devil you look after and your former senpai.

[There's a good word Aki likes to define the relationship between the two of them. Senior and junior. Supervisor and... employee. Okay, just senior and junior.]

[ He wants to believe that on any other day, he'd swat his fussing hands away and keep some modicum of self-respect.

But this is Denji. Aki could give him a stick of gum or a breath mint right now instead and he'd be just as happy a camper. Which is why, little by little, the brushing soothes the tightness of his expression away until Denji's fully caved to the sensation. His head leans into the airy touch, like some sort of needy pet begging to have his head rubbed. He blinks hard once or twice to keep his eyes from unintentionally drifting shut. ]

Wrong. You weren't my senpai. You were Hayapai. S'not the same.

[ Inexplicably, one of his hands comes up to Aki's ear to play with his piercing, twisting at it. Ugh, that creep has something like this, too… What's with pretty boys and their earrings? Should he get his pierced? ]

You'll really be happy if I make this guy my buddy?

[He could ask Denji to explain the difference but he doesn't actually need him to. But maybe he just wants to hear him try.]

[Aki doesn't push him away, instead rolling onto his side and tugging Denji again to pull him to lay down beside him. How can one kid have this much energy? To still be sitting up after sex like that.] Lay down. [He even moves onto the side he's pinching his ear with so he can keep doing whatever he's doing with it.] I'll just be happy if you're happy, Denji.

[And he thinks making a friend is a good first step.]

[ Laying down is dangerous, especially knowing that they still have to clean up the mess of their activities. But that isn't a concern in Denji's mind right then. He lands shoulder-first into the bedding, flopping a leg over Aki's as he continues rolling his piercing between his fingers.

Rarely the contemplative sort, he looks distant hearing the answer provided to him. It's just that Aki says it so easily. It that makes him want to test and challenge the strength of the claim, the stretch of it. Cruelly, perhaps. Ask him: Would he still be happy if he ate takeout every night? If he started coming home late, not because of devil hunting, but because he was out at karaoke with friends? If he came home looking like a different person, hair dyed and ears pierced?

Or if he told him — ]

What if I'm happy just being like this…?

[What is this? Aki wants to ask. But instead he closes his eyes for a moment, thinking of an answer. It could even look like he's fallen asleep for how long he's quiet with them closed, unmoving and unbothered by Denji's touches. He's debating what to say.]

I think I was at my happiest right after the typhoon devil.

[Power returned home at that time, and they had a couple weeks of calm. Denji was morose for a bit, he remembers. But once that cleared, things were nice for a time. Their home life was okay. He went out to lunch with Angel a lot in that period - their relationship had grown a little more open. Between the typhoon devil and the time Denji was being hunted by assassins, things were alright. Normal.]

[Maybe it was the contrast, between what happened then and what happened next. Everything went downhill after that time period. But for those couple weeks, things were calm.]

But if you asked me at the time... I think I would have said I was miserable.

[He had just lost two months of his life. Two of his friends had died, and he couldn't do a thing about it at the time. He wrecked a company car. Angel told him that strange story about the "vrumm" he remembered hearing in hell. And with Power back home, the terrible twosome had been a pain to deal with all at once.]

I think some of happiness is hindsight. Being able to look back on things... Having moments to reminisce on that make you happy... That sort of thing.

[That big dinner they had right after Samurai Sword. Listening to Denji try and recap all the movies he had seen one day. That welcome party where he got so drunk Power had to carry him home. Trying to teach Meowy how to use a litter box.]

If you say you're happy just as you are, I'll believe you... But your life can always stand to improve. So you have more good things to look back on.

[ Aside from his moving mouth, Aki looks eerily motionless to him, somehow managing to sound older and more far away with each word he speaks, the exact integer of light, sound, and space he’s traveled since they put down Typhoon tallied into his very breath. Denji's fingers have stopped toying with his ear, now resting warm upon his neck, thumbing at his pulse — just another out of many other affectionate gestures he's shared with him tonight, but this one belies the fact that he's needily checking that Aki is still alive, still solid, still there. Not a ghost that'll disappear after saying his piece.

He’s never needed much to get by; he knows how to ration out his happiness and make the inconsequential things, like finding a shiny coin on the street or cracking two yolks out of a single egg, last far past their expiration date. Growing up on the countryside, in lieu of a mother’s presence, calling him back home to a warm dinner, gently chastising him for staying out too late, he could think about how nice it was not to be nagged. How without the assuring weight of his old man’s hand on his head, he could live without those same digits constricting around his windpipe.

But then moving to Tokyo had blown the bad things, the things he'd tried to think of as not so bad, completely out of the water — he'd never been happy like that in his life. Happy enough he could even ignore the misery of others, people like his coworkers who all died after the welcome party, people like Aki who had to keep dragging their feet onward the next day. A happiness so unquestionable, so extreme, everything else could fall by the wayside.

And then he'd lost — no, not lost, it was never his to lose. He'd returned all that. ]

Y'know… [ Denji lowers his hands from him, the downward movement taking his gaze along with it. It's funny, he'd felt pretty content just a moment ago. Now his voice is small. Uncharacteristically, slow and measured. ] You can be weird. And you talk way too much. But you're a pretty good thing, too, Aki. [ He doesn't look up, doesn't want to see Aki watching him tiredly or pinched with something unreadable, or worse, not regarding him at all. ] I don't want you to be something I just look back on someday.

[Aki keeps his stare up on the ceiling as Denji speaks. He surely has some sort of unreadable expression on his face, unhappy and confused yet pleased and understanding. He wonders if, for a time, he was someone Denji looked back on. For Aki, he was. But all he had were what-ifs and woulda-coulda-shoulda. Maybe that's why he feels such pressure to make sure Denji is on the right footing now.]

...I don't want to die with regrets again, either.

[He pushes himself to sit up, Denji's leg splayed over his the main thing holding him down. So he reaches to push it away.]

Come on. We need to wash off. [Their post-coital talking wasn't quite as mellow and pointless as the pillow talk he's used to. He'll let them both shoulder the blame for that even if it's mostly his own fault. Aki tugs at the arm that's over his chest in an attempt to pull Denji upright.]

[ Happy memories only become regrets when you don't hold on hard enough to them. That could be the reason Denji, reeled up like a fishing lure, hangs in an exaggerated droop, ready to fall back into the sheets if Aki lets go. ]

Gaaah, you can't be serious. Already…? [ He pauses, a hound scenting something. Shortly after, his nose dives close into Aki's bubble, giving him a good sniff. ] …Never mind, good point. You smell like toe gunk.

[ So he says, though it's clearly not that bad… Just sweat intermingling with with a hint of shampoo. He kinda enjoys how it permeates off him, but like hell he's gonna say that. Anyway, Denji definitely smells worse by virtue of being Denji, and he seems self-aware enough about it to begrudgingly get to his feet again, leading the way to the bathroom.

Adopting a perfunctory tone as he starts to turn the shower head on: ] You can take the tub. [ It's only large enough to fit one person. So. ] I'll just soap up on the side.

[ After going skinny dipping with a pretty girl, but mostly after taking care of Power and Nayuta, he hasn't felt shy about bathing with others in a while, so he just assumes that's what they're both going to do. Besides, this isn't really his first time with Aki, either. When Aki was discharged from the hospital, Denji used to help with little things in the beginning as he acclimated. Not really the same henning he'd reserve for Power, just mostly helping him lift up from the bathtub if he needed the extra upper body support. He always agreed back then, and always without complaint, staring at the stump of tightened skin where his left arm used to be. ]

I don't smell like toe gunk.

[Denji gets a palm smushing his face as Aki pushes him away for that. He probably smells like sweat and semen but not toe gunk. Denji is always so gross.]

[But once they're inside, apparently he's being sent to the tub. Aki shakes his head like Denji doesn't know what he's talking about. He reaches to turn on the faucet to it, letting it fill with warm water.]

You shouldn't skip out on that. It's good for your skin. [That's what his mother used to tell him, though maybe that mattered more in a place that was dry like Hokkaido as opposed to humid like Tokyo. Aki is similarly not too body shy around Denji in a tub environment, though it's less because of the struggles he had to button his pants for the first week or so after he lost his arm and more because he finds bath nudity completely separate from other nudity. He saw Angel naked all the time when they had to spray one another down after particularly gory devils. ...Though seeing a devil naked never really made Aki think of anything like body shame or the need to hide himself, anyway. (With Himeno, he kept his pants on.)]

Here - Just sit down. [And he points him to the shower stool, grabbing the head off the wall.]

Relax! I have baths all the time, man. Didn't know it was a good thing…

[ The rejection earns him an unsurprised snort. What a pain in the ass. He was trying to be nice letting him call dibs. But whatever, he surrenders to the direction, seating himself on the stool and sliding it back so that it's properly positioned in front of Aki. It's been a while since he's been on the other side of something like this. Might as well enjoy it. ]

Well, if you wanna get your bandages soaked, go for it.

[ Pointed out like it makes a difference; wet bandages or no, Aki's skin should be newly minted within the next day. ]

Not too cold, [ he warns, tilting his head back to stare up at him. ] Okay?

[Aki isn't too concerned about the bandages. He taped them, so they should hold up under some water. His main worry was infection, anyway. So Aki moves behind him, spraying the head against his hand as he waits for him to get situated.]

[When Denji leans his head back to look at him, Aki stares in response, no agreement or disagreement. He could tell him that, actually, it's better for your hair to wash it with cold water, or he could scold him for wasting warm water when the bath is going to be plenty warm. But he does neither, just waits for the water to grow warm against his hand before he pushes his head back in the right direction and begins spraying him down, from top to bottom. His hand slides through his hair, slicking it down and back and running his fingers through to pick out the knots. After he's fully sprayed down, he reaches out to set the shower head down and steps around Denji, looking at him straight on. He's flattened his hair neatly against his head, giving him a brief look at what he might look like if he combed his hair and gelled it in place.]

[Aki snorts.]

[Then picks up the shampoo and starts to give his head a gentle scrub with his un-damaged hand. Though whether it's meant to be gentle or just because it's one-handed, it's not really clear.]

You look like a private school kid, with your hair straightened... [Just imagine, Denji going to a nice, expensive school with a fancy uniform, in a suit and tie... There's no way. He never even wore his uniform jacket in Public Safety.]

[ …If only it could always be this easy to close his eyes, feel the sink of someone else's fingers wetting into his roots. Although it's not as if his scalp is being fully massaged, it's still nice, and so sufficient in its niceness that it pulls a weighty breath of relief out from his chest. The nozzle spray overtakes the sound, but Aki probably could have observed the movement from sight alone: the hike of Denji's broad shoulders, the slow descent.

Then he hears the slap of Aki's feet against the ceramic tiling. One eye opens. ]

Hm? Is that bad? [ Private school student…? That's a funny thought. Kishibe hadn't even bothered listing one of those as an option for him to enroll in. He raises a hand above his opened eye to shield it from any vagrant suds. ] Or do you like it?

[ … ]

Well, you look like… [ He trails off, watching him up the side of his arm, unable to think of a timely retort. Aki doesn't look like he belongs in a school at all, really, either as a student or a faculty member. It's easier to imagine him more as a regular salaryman, like the all the ones he sees on the train reading the paper or barely managing to stay awake until their next stop. But that's a pretty boring response. So he tells him instead: ] You look like the kinda teach that'd have fun punishing his students. Making 'em stand in the hallway and hold their arms in the air.

[He probably dislikes it. Definitely doesn't like it. But it's because it isn't Denji. He's never seen him with his hair combed out, straightened and slick with effort. So seeing him now with it is amusing. But Aki doesn't say any of that, instead considering the teacher comment.]

In my high school we used buckets. [It felt very cliche. Like something from a manga or drama. But he assumes Denji is speaking from experience, here.] How often do you have to do that? Maybe I'll suggest they switch. [He says it so neutrally it honestly sounds like he might send Denji to school with a letter about it. But no - he never found the practice to do much of anything but get a noisy kid out of the room for a bit.]

[Once he sprays the suds out of Denji's hair, he works his body clean next before spraying him off, too. His mouth opens as he starts to tell him to sit up so he can clean him out, but... then remembers he didn't actually come inside him. It just honestly felt like he did, with how into it he got.]

[So he puts the shower head back on the wall and motions at him to get to the tub.] Go soak. I'll clean off.

[ Denji's been thrashed from one end of the city to the next, boiled alive in the stomach acids of devils before — and yet somehow the idea of being forced to hold buckets of water at Aki's request is what has him shirking back and off the stool. Sometimes he'll get bored and stop paying attention, or sometimes there will be dudes annoying the hell out off him. But he never does anything that bad in class. Frequently, it's the adults who give him a hard time, drawing conclusions about his behavioral issues based on the fact that he doesn't have any parents, doesn't have any proper guidance, doesn't have goals to steer him anywhere but to some dead-end job… Yeah, no way would he last a single day in some place like a private school if he can barely slum it in public education.

But he doesn't want to make that Aki's problem. ]

No! Don't be a jerkface…

[ He shoots a quick glare at Aki, then moves to sit on the edge of the tub, wiggling his fingers in the water to test its temperature. Still warm it feels like. Briefly, he looks back at Aki again, considering offering to help him since he's still one-handed, and since Denji still feels like he owes him, but he's been dismissed every time he's tried so far tonight. He's… not really sure how to conduct himself around Aki now that they've had intercourse, if there's a right or a wrong way to act. ]

So like, uh, are we just gonna hit the sack after this?

[Aki looks over his shoulder at him at the question, his own expression questioning. Not insulting or judgmental - he looks truly curious, if not a bit fatigued.]

As opposed to what?

[Does he have anything else planned...? It's late, of course he's going to send Denji to bed when they're both cleaned up. He turns back around to continue scrubbing himself down.]

I told you - This kind of thing doesn't have to be a big deal.

[He reaches to pick up the shower head and begins to spray himself down, still keeping his gaze forward. It doesn't have to be a big deal, nor does it have to mean anything. Denji should learn that.]

And I was serious. You still have to go to class tomorrow.

[ Oh… Yeah, that's right. Not a big deal. Denji throws his legs into the tub, then flumps in all at once, water spilling out over the brim in rivulets. He isn't looking Aki's way anymore, training his. ]

No, I just meant — like, I wasn't sure if that was the usual order of stuff.

[ You have sex, you talk, you bathe… Most of the time, in the tapes he watches, the actors in there will go at it for hours on end, but maybe they actually took breaks in-between and he didn't realize it. Or maybe it was special effects, CGI or something — that stuff's gotten more popular in action movies, so maybe porn, too. Chin tilting downward, he blows bubbles into the surface level of the water.

After some thinking, he speaks up again. ]

Can I sleep with you at least? Usually, Nayuta's there when I go to bed so it's weird if there's no one else.

[ Like none of this is a big deal, it's not a big deal if Aki refuses, either, he tells himself. He could always drag Meowy in there against her will. ]

[The order to things... Aki isn't sure what else he wants. He doesn't respond as Denji settles himself in the tub, pushing his hair back and out of his face. Did he still want to talk? Was there something he didn't say that he wanted to? Did he actually want to go again? Did the feeling not last as long as he expected?]

[Then Denji mentions him sleeping with him, and it clicks.]

Are you a kid? [It comes out a little tired, kind of amused in the same way you are when a cat falls off the counter. He squeezes out his hair and begins to spray down the floor.] Yeah. It's fine. [He can pretend to believe him, that he slept beside Power for so long and now he's beside that kid. It's been years since Aki regularly slept beside anyone. The last time... was probably when they went to Hokkaido.]

[He stretches his arms before grabbing a towel, wrapping it around his waist. Despite scolding Denji to get in the tub, he isn't bothering with it, himself. He might fall asleep if he did.]

Come on. I'll tuck you in. [Just light teasing, said in a neutral tone.]

Ah, shove it!

[ The embarrassing part is that even in the face of his teasing, Denji can't refute him, can't contain the way his eyes brighten, renewed excitement fizzling into the syllables of his response. That's exactly what he wants: to be tucked in, to be close to someone just a little while longer.

Cheeks coloring from more than the steam getting to his head, he nicks a nearby towel of his own, letting it flop over his wet hair, and thereby hiding how pleased the expression on his face is, as he gingerly steps out. Denji's dripping all over the place, but he's careful as he moves to fit the tub cover into place. Aki's already making fun of him, he doesn't need to give him another reason to by falling on his ass. ]

You — go get changed. I'll replace the sheets.

[ As if to directly disprove the allegation that he's a kid, Denji straightens, chest puffing as he sets off for the bedroom, flicking the light off as he passes. Transparent posturing. A silly contrast compared to how timidly he'd requested to share the bed with Aki moments before. ]

[Look at him, being all high and mighty about changing the sheets. He'll have to teach him about the magic of putting down a towel before sex.]

[Aki spends a minute or two drying off, pulling on some pants and an undershirt. When he returns to the bedroom, he either helps Denji continue with the sheet changing, or backs off and waits for him to finish if he gets shooed. Once the bed is ready though, he lays down, turning onto his side and raising the covers for Denji to crawl under.]

[As his hand raises the sheets, however, a flash of deja vu hits him. A feeling that he's done this exact motion before, that his body has moved like this in the past. It takes him a moment to place it.]

...I used to have to do this with my younger brother.

[Funny, how that works out. He waits for Denji to crawl in before setting the sheets down over him.]

You're not quite as needy, though. [A low bar to pass, but still.]

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